Project Bluefield a-2012 - FEA: In DisRegard
by 017Bluefield
Summary: An original concept merging with Fire Emblem Awakening. This anecdote follows the aftermath of Chapter 21. Please R&R :) . Warning: contains Spoilers!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: there's a few things I should make clear to you, the readers, before you read this fanfic.

First: this story ties into _Project Bluefield_, a "fiction/fanfiction series" created by myself. As such, as you read, you'll come across characters and plot elements that don't appear in _Fire Emblem Awakening_, much less make sense. Don't worry, though - you don't need to understand every single one of these elements to enjoy the story.

Second: this story _loosely_ follows the official storyline of _Fire Emblem Awakening_. This means the characters may do things differently in this fanfic than they do in the game.

Third: this story will follow my version of the Avatar, named Dysren. His personality is quite different from his in-game counterpart. Also, at this point on the story, he and Lucina have fallen in love; and they have encountered and taken in Morgan, their future daughter.

Last but not least: this story contains major spoilers for Chapter 21 of _Fire Emblem Awakening_. Read at your own risk!

Now that that's all out of the way, please enjoy this fanfic! :)

* * *

"In (Dis)Regard"

[REDACTED], a.12 (after 2012)

Dysren

Shepherds / Zeroes

Shepherds' Garrison, Ylisse

_Fire Emblem_

* * *

"You know, I have memories of him, from when I was little. Before he… Before he died."

I nodded, saying nothing.

"He was courageous, kind," she said. I knew that look in her eye–her mind was elsewhere. In the past of her terrible future. "Everyone spoke fondly of him. People said that he was brave, even until the very end."

"Yeah," I said, smiling faintly. "Yeah… That's just the sort of person he is. Even when we're against impossible odds, he just keeps going. And somehow, that drives us to follow him."

Lucina nodded, smiling as well.

"I always yearned to know him better. And now that I do…I can see that the world will be robbed of a very great man." She looked up at me here, somehow sad…and resolute. "I won't allow that to happen."

I paused, then nodded slightly. "I know you won't. None of us would."

"I know, Dysren. But…"

My brow furrowed. She hadn't called me Dysren since…

"What is it?" I asked her.

"…Would any of them do what is _absolutely necessary?_" Lucina looked me in the eye when she asked that. She took one step forward. "To make sure that Father does not die?"

"I don't doubt that any of them would. But—"

"And to that end, are any of our comrades-in-arms willing to make sacrifices, as you have?"

_Sacrifices_. That word brought back the day on the Searoad—how I came with the plan to sacrifice half of our own fleet to clear the way to Valm.

But this… It didn't feel like Lucina was talking about sacrificing a bunch of boats.

"What are you saying…?" I asked.

Lucina paused.

"…Dysren, I'm saying…" A short sigh. "Please forgive me."

And with that, she drew Falchion. With one hand, she aimed the sacred sword at my chest, where my heart should be.

I took a step back in surprise, hands in front. "Lucina—"

"Stay where you are!" Lucina barked. She was steeling herself—I could see that in her face. "Dysren, I—I've no choice. I _have_ to kill you."

I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You? Kill me? What for?!"

"Don't you remember? In my future, Father was killed by his best friend. Out of all the Shepherds, only one person is ever so close to him. That person…is you, Dysren."

Even with her trying to stay calm, it sounded really painful for her to finish that last sentence.

I let my hands slowly drop to my sides. "I…killed Chrom…?" Then I felt angry float up through the horror in my chest. "Why the _hell_ would I do that…?"

Lucina shook her head briefly. Her Falchion didn't waver from my chest.

"I was not certain myself," she admitted. "I thought, 'Why _would_ Dysren kill Chrom?' Having witnessed your bond with him, I doubted it could be so. No matter what happens, neither of you have _any_ reason to dislike one another, let alone kill."

My thoughts briefly went to Emmeryn's fall, two years ago.

"But…today's events make it all clear," Lucina continued "You are at Validar's mercy. He's already taken control of you once, and he'll do it again. He'll force you to take my father's life. And if _my_ future is to happen again, Father will die very soon…"

I wanted to argue. But then I remembered handing the Fire Emblem over to Validar. How I couldn't stop myself from actually doing the deed. I'd almost dropped it before he could touch it, but—

"If my father is right," Lucina said, bringing me back from daydreams, "then we _can_ change our fates. If this dark future is to be averted, sacrifices must be made." She tightened her grip on Falchion. "Dysren, I…I'm sorry. I know this is murder. I…I _know_ that…but…"

Remembering that she had me at swordpoint, I tried to remain calm. "Lucina, you don't have to—"

"_Enough!_" she yelled, shutting me up. "Don't make this harder! Don't resist, and your death will be swift and painless."

She took a shaky breath.

"…Please, Dys. If you hold _any_ love for Chrom, then let this be done…"

I was already standing still, but her words almost left me stunned.

There I stood, blade over heart, faced with an emotionally-impossible decision.

Lucina had come here to change the future from the hell it would become. I wanted to see the new future bloom—wanted to see it with Lucina and Morgan at my side. Yet here was a painful revelation: for that future to bloom, I most likely had to die.

It made me want to scream. It wasn't fair.

Then I looked to my left. The sunset was beautiful today—insultingly so. Streaks of light played across my vision. The clouds overhead—orange, yellow, red.

Almost forgetting the sword pointed at my chest, I remembered their smiles.

Chrom. Sumia. Lissa. Frederick. Stahl. Sully. Maribelle. Kellam. Ricken. Vaike. Virion. Olivia. Donnel. Miriel. Lon'qu. Panne. Gaius. Cordelia. Nowi. Gregor. Tharja. Libra. Cherche. Henry. Say'ri. Anna.

Owain. Cynthia. Inigo. Brady. Severa. Kjelle. Yarne. Nah. Gerome. Noire. Laurent.

Morgan.

Lucina.

_"I love you. And no matter what the future holds…I will cherish _every_ moment."_

The children… _They_ deserved to see that future, too. After all, they'd been through hell to get here in the first place.

How could I be selfish on them now?

How could I make what they've done, all be for nothing?

How could I even think of robbing Lucina of any hope of finally seeing a different future with her own eyes?

I remembered what Blu had said: "Pleasure comes from things like luxury, extravagance, self-indulgence. But oft with it comes guilt. Happiness—_that_ comes from helping other people, making _them_ happy."

I sighed, briefly closing my eyes for a moment, before facing Lucina, eyes open and resolute.

I remembered the smiles. I remembered the advice.

And I knew what I had to do.

"…All right," I said, a small, melancholy smile slowly crossing my lips. "I'll leave my fate in your hands."

Lucina paused. Maybe she hadn't expected me to agree. Then she nodded, gripped Falchion with both hands as she aimed the sword at my chest, six feet away.

I spread my arms out—defenseless. I never strayed my gaze from her face.

For moments, Lucina just stood there. Her stance told that she was completely prepared to run me through the chest.

It didn't exactly hit me that I wasn't dead yet until she snapped at me: "…D-Don't look at me like that! I _love_ you! Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?"

Her eyes were slowly starting to shine.

"More than enough," I sighed. "Besides, I swore to give my life for Chrom, Sumia, Lissa—and you, Lucina. _Especially_ you."

"Ah, just—!" She took a deep breath. "Dysren, _please…_ Let me regret this sometime else. Anytime but now."

"Then at least promise me something."

I hadn't meant to speak so sharply. I guess part of me _did_ want to die, but at least wanted to leave some loose ends in the right hands.

What I'd just said to Lucina—even with the sun's rays, I saw that it made her façade waver. Briefly, but unmistakibly so. "…Then speak," she said, voice level, almost monotone, "lest your last request dies with you."

"…If she remains here, even after I die… Please—look after Morgan for me." Somehow, I felt at peace already. "Be there for her, no matter what happens next. After all, you'll be all she truly has left."

Lucina hesitated, then nodded. "…You have my word," she said. "She'll be in good hands."

I nodded, relieved to know for sure that Morgan would not be alone. I closed my eyes, ready to introduce my chest to a bite of sacred steel.

I heard Lucina yell "Haaaaaaa!", then a piercing sound that sounded disturbingly close to me.

Then the wind roared in my ears.

* * *

_[Changing Perspective to:]_ 017 "Bluefield"


	2. Interlude

**Author's Notes**: I just want to get another thing clear for this portion: this "chapter" will introduce you to two of my OCs. One of them—017 "Bluefield"—is the narrator of this segment. The other—013-R "Trey"—is his companion and protégé (sort of). They'll be integral to the next chapter in this fanfic.

* * *

_[Changing Perspective to:]_ 017 "Bluefield"

* * *

_"Nooo!"_

Trey blurted out: "Oh, sh—auh!"

That last part was because I'd elbowed him in the ribs.

I know, I know, that's overdoing it. But a jab to your ribcage is less permanent than losing your mouth.

Turning to him, I gave the kid my best _watch-your-mouth_ face. "I know what was about to slip out of your mouth," I muttered, quietly but firmly, "and you'd better make damned sure that it doesn't happen again around here."

When he looked up at me, part of me felt slightly guilty. Trey still had a lot to learn, even now.

"Okay, okay… I get it," he said, rubbing his left side. Then he stopped.

He looked up at me again, incredulous. "Wait… We're not intervening?" he asked.

"What?"

It took a moment for what he'd just said to sink in. Then I sighed, pinched the bridge of my nose. "No, not yet. Not with our loadouts."

His brow scrunched. "…Why not?"

I pointed my right hand over my left shoulder—past the treelike, back to the field. "'Cause that Morgan's doing more than just shouting 'No'."

I saw Trey look to the field—and I saw his eyes widen.

"Oh, crap."

"That's better."

"Wha—Oh, shut up."

"Hmph."

* * *

_[Changing Perspective to:]_ Dysren


	3. Chapter 2

_[Changing Perspective to:]_ Dysren

* * *

_No._

I didn't wonder why Morgan hadn't used a sword. It was already so brain-dead _obvious_, for crying out loud.

But why a grimoire? Why not a small stone or a tree branch? Why she risk _hurting her own mother?_

Lucina landed in the grass, her hair trailing her in her fall. Her Falchion was already on the ground, on my right. Looking down at it, I saw a narrow laceration in my coat, just an inch off from piercing my torso.

Out of nowhere, Morgan came running to where I stood. She had the green tome clutched tight in her hand. Before she turned to face her mother, I caught a glimpse of her face. Her usual cheer was gone; instead, fear and sorrow took its place.

She got between me and Lucina, arms wide. "Mother, don't do this!" she cried.

_No,_ I thought. _Don't…_

Lucina struggled to her feet, looked up at the young woman standing before her.

"Morgan, what…" she breathed, winded. Luckily, Morgan held back enough on her magic to only send Lucina flying a few feet—no serious injuries. "Why are you here…?"

"Because I won't let you!"

_No, dammit…_

"But Morgan," Lucina said as she stood up, "if Dysren lives, Chrom will die. And if he dies—"

"I know, Mother!" Morgan yelled, and for the first time since finding her crying in Lucina's arms, I could hear crying in her voice. "But killing Father… Killing Father won't solve _any_of that!"

_Morgan, don't… Don't do this…_

"How can you say that?" Lucina demanded. Maybe she could be harsher if Inigo or Kjelle or Laurent had intervened. But this was her—well, _our_—future daughter standing in the way. This was different. "How can you know that for sure?!"

"I _do_ know!" Morgan cried, caring only about the now. "The bonds we forge bind us together. Our bonds—with Father, with Chrom, with each other and everybody—they're stronger than any destiny. That's why I know: Father won't let _anything_ make him kill Chrom. No one will!"

For a second, hearing Morgan paraphrase my own words… I felt…I dunno. Embarrassed? Maybe. Proud? Definately.

Proud that she was standing up to protect me. Proud of her for trying.

I smiled a little. I knew better to wish that she could, especially at a time like this.

The sunset was still glowing over the horizon, making me squint slightly.

Lucina didn't see me step forward. "Morgan, believe me: I—I truly wish that I need not do this. But if…if you don't step aside—"

I placed my hand on Morgan's shoulder. "No, Lucina," I said, calmy yet firmly. "You promised. If you're gonna cut anyone down, it will be me."

Lucina stepped back, caught off guard. "Dysren…"

Morgan looked up at me, shocked. "But, Father—!"

Turning to her, I got down on one knee to get to Morgan's eye level. "Morgan," I said gently, "I'm grateful that you're trying to protect me and everything. But please, stand aside._I_ chose to leave my fate in your mother's hands. This is between her and me. There is no need for you to suffer with me, Morgan. Okay?"

"Father…" A tear streaked down her cheek. Then she ran into . "…Okay. But please, no matter what…don't die."

I hugged her, fighting the urge to cry. "Don't you die, either."

Letting go, I let Morgan step away from me. Calmer than I could've been, at her age.

…well, maybe. I still don't remember. But that hardly matters.

_She'll make a wonderful tactician,_ I thought.

Getting up, I walked back to where the parrallel Falchion lay on the grass. With one hand, I picked the sword up by the blade. Breathing out, I walked back to Lucina and held it out to her, handle out.

"Here," I said simply.

Mildly stunned, she nonetheless took the sword.

I spread my arms out—defenseless.

Lucina took a deep breath before drawing back, preparing to run me through.

Back to square one.

I gazed at Lucina. "Go ahead," I said, gently as possible. "Do it."

She nodded. "Farewell…Dysren…" I heard her say.

I saw Morgan quickly shield her eyes before I closed mine.

A loud _"HAA!"_—and the full force of a charging swordsperson knocked the wind out off me.

…

…

…

…Nothing.

Only silence followed, enveloping the field.

I dared not make a sound.

Then I felt a tear roll down my face. I still don't know why it took me half of a second to realize that it was *my* tear.

Then Lucina shuddered—she was leaning against me, both arms thrust under my own upper left.

For the longest time, we stood there, stock still—like statues against the setting sun.

Lucina was still silent.

Then, feeling her knees buckle, I fell on my knees to keep her upright.

And there we stayed, for what felt like eternity.

I'm not sure when I first realized that she'd started to sob uncontrollably.

"Gods _damn_ me…!" she wept. "I…I can't… I can't do it…! I love you too much, and I…!"

_Oh gods,_ I thought. _What is wrong with me?_

I wrapped my arms around her. She didn't stop me. "Dys…" she sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Dys. I…"

"Shhhh," I soothed, still stunned myself. "It's okay, Lucina. It's all okay…"

But even as I said that, a voice in the back of my mind groaned: _No, it's not._

That voice was right.

_What had I done…?_

* * *

_[Changing Perspective to:]_ 017 "Bluefield"

* * *

We were already walking toward them when Trey turned to ask me: "What _did_ he do to her?"

Still annoyed by what had just happened, I resisted the urge to stare back at him and say_You're kidding, right?_

Instead, I sighed and simply looked over to him. "Best guess? The bastard _somehow_—without realizing it _or_ meaning to—gave Lucina a dose of emotional torture."

Three yards out from the tree line. Still a ways to go.

"Wow…" Trey looked a little stunned. "And how did he…?"

"Losing a loved one can be unthinkable for most people," I said. "But it's even worse if the reason they lost that loved one is because _they_ pulled the trigger."

_Like Yuna losing Tidus,_ I thought. _Or Zephie losing Juto. Or Shulk losing Fiora._

We were halfway across the grass—halfway away from them now.

Morgan had slowly unshielded her eyes. She only peeled them away from her parents when she heard us—the rustling of shoes on dirt and grass behind her.

"Trey… Mister Blu…" she said weakly, getting over the surprise (_not_ us, actually). "Mother, she…"

Trey walked over to the young tactician-in-training. "Don't worry, Morgan," he said. (_His hesitance has gone pretty far down,_ I thought.) "Your mom and dad are all right."

When Lucina had attacked Dys the first time, the blade would undoubtably have pierced that fool in the chest. Morgan had done well, holding back with her Wind tome—she'd diverted her mother's charge away from her father, with little more that a minor cut on the jacket left behind.

But the second time… As Lucina charged, she changed something. She'd lowered her sword point to her right—below Dys's left arm.

It's disturbingly easy to kill a bunch of nobodies. But killing someone you love, even if it was for the greater good? Sometimes, love defies logic.

_Good thing that doesn't matter,_ I thought as I approached the two fools.

When Lucina burst her Falchion forward, below his left arm (off-course, at this point), Dys—instinctively—raised said arm to catch her. Her arms had remained outstretched until she realized what she'd almost done. Now, her sword lay on the grass, dropped, as if it didn't matter right now.

Dys had pulled her into an embrace. Lucina didn't stop him; in fact, she needed it. He let her cry on his shoulder.

And there I stood, two yards away. I didn't matter to this. And somehow—despite how annoyed I was with him—I still didn't mind that fact.

Either way, they _had_ the right to know.

_How close_ they were, to bringing this world to ruin.

I let them cry for about a minute.

I glanced at Trey, who was standing beside Morgan. He looked pained, watching this.

Sighing, I walked over to the parallel Falchion and picked it up.

Passing it to my right, I drove the sword into the ground.

Then, stepping forward, I reached over with my left hand and tapped Dys twice on the shoulder.

Looking up at me, he seemed somewhat unfazed about my standing there. A tear had left a wet line down his cheek, along his nose. "Blu…?" he muttered ("said" would be too strong a word to describe _how_ he'd said it).

Hearing him, Lucina looked up and pulled away from him—_she_ looked a bit more surprised. "You again…" she managed.

I sighed. "Way to waste time, you two," I said, mostly to Dys.

The tactician stood up. "Listen," he said, "I didn't—"

_**TH'N.**_

He didn't finish that sentence.

Kinda hard to do when you get punched in the cheek.

* * *

_[Changing Perspective to:]_ 013-R "Trey"

* * *

**Author's Note**: …well. T_hat_ was a nasty surprise. 8-0

Did you expect an OC to punch the male Avatar in the face? Go ahead. Let me know how you felt about that in your reviews for this chapter—_but!_ Remember this, at least: **Blu wouldn't do something ****_that_**** rash if he didn't have to. And yes, he most certainly did.**

Thanks for reading this far into the story! The conclusion will be coming very soon. See you then! :D


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